


Sick Days

by ViridityJemina



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Domestic Fluff, F/M, Family Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-26
Updated: 2016-04-26
Packaged: 2018-06-04 13:26:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,872
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6659866
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ViridityJemina/pseuds/ViridityJemina
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Cullen goes through the parental trial of dealing with his sick toddler while his wife, Niamh Lavellan, is away.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sick Days

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Riverbard](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Riverbard/gifts).



Cullen perched himself on the edge of the bed, one palm against his forehead and the other beneath the bangs of the small figure buried in blankets. He was still a moment, contemplative. Noting that the skin felt substantially warmer then it had an hour ago the frown on his face deepened.

’Okay, now I know she has a fever’, he thought as worry began to prick at him.

He should have realized something was wrong when Evie had barely touched her porridge at breakfast, though he had begun to suspect something was amiss when she preceded to act rather listless the rest of the morning compared to the usual bundle of energy she was.

He had defiantly realized something was wrong when she had put up no fight when he placed her down for a nap and had finally noted she felt rather warm.

Now he had his answer. He pulled his hands back and crossed his arms across his chest as he thought about his best course of action.

“Da?”

Shaken out of his thoughts Cullen glanced in the direction of the small voice, and looked at a pair of large, droopy eyes, as a small hand reached up to rub weakly across them.

“Yes, pup?” Cullen said softly as he tucked her errant bangs out of her face. Her face was flushed, and a bit clammy, a look he didn’t like seeing on her.

She blinked slowly at him, bottom lip pouting. “I feer icky,” the three-year old mumbled.

“I know, Evie, I know.” Cullen said lamely, unsure of what to tell her to make her feel better. Maker, he was grasping at straws on how to best handle this…

’I wish Niamh was here. She’d know what to give her…’

“Where’s Mamae?” the little voice asked plaintively, as if reading his thoughts.

“Mamae had to go help Mister Brenton, remember?” Cullen reminded her as he continued to stroke her head, hoping to comfort her, though he felt it was more for his benefit at this point.

Niamh had left as the sun had risen to go assist the local baker Brenton, who had managed to garner himself a nasty burn while preparing his ovens for the day. She had assured Cullen she would be back sometime in the afternoon, before stooping to kiss a sleeping Evie on the crown of her head, then him on the lips.

“Oh. Wirr she be back soon?” came Evie’s weak response, big, watery eyes locked on his.

Cullen’s heart clenched at the sight, the green in them being accentuated by her flush. “Soon, soon. For now, Da will take care of you, okay?” Cullen replied gently, promising, before reaching to tuck the blankets more firmly around her. He swore he felt a chill in the room, and he resolved to go stoke the fire to ward it off.

’Blasted winter. She probably got sick rolling around in the snow yesterday. I knew I should have bundled her up more…’.

But she had been so excited to rush out after the first snowfall, to build snowmen with Niamh, he had forgone dressing her in an extra jumper and scarf. Oh, and her hat, he had forgotten her hat, too.

’And Niamh was joking that she had worn too many layers, could barely move she said…well look now. Maybe my “mother hen-ing” was for the best.’ He groused internally, before sighing; really this was no one’s fault. Children got sick. He had gotten sick as a child. But that didn’t mean he had to like the fact that his own child was ill now.

He focused back on Evie’s flushed face, eyes still drooping, as she fought to stay awake. He sighed, bent down to kiss her brow and tried not to panic at the scalding heat of her skin.

There was no need to worry. He would care for her until Niamh returned. She would have a better idea of what medicinal plants could be concocted into something that could help Evie. And if not, Niamh could at least be here to watch their babe while he went to get Mother Marta at the sanctuary.

“Go back to sleep, pup. Da will go try to find something to make you feel better,” he murmured against her skin.

She shook her head in denial, tiny fingers reaching out to weakly grasp at his sleeve. “Nooo,” she whined. “Stay.”

His immediate response was to heed her request, but the rational part of him knew he needed to get some preparation out of the way in order aid in her recover.

He hoped.

He reached down to untangle her fingers before moving to place a quick kiss upon each one. “Da will only be a gone a few minutes, then I’ll be right back, okay? Havard will keep you company, right Havard?”

At the sound of his name, the mabari rushed over from his silent sentinel near the bedroom entrance to sit next to the bed. The dog placed his head on the mattress, next to Evie’s face. The small girl pulled her hand from Cullen’s grasp to reach up and place it over Havard’s nose, and gently rubbed his snout. “Hi Hav,” she said with a sniffle. Havard whined softly, tongue poking out to lick her fingers.

“See, it’ll be okay. Havard will keep an eye on you, won’t you boy?” Cullen said, giving Havard a significant look. The dog straightened up, yipping once and seeming to nod. Cullen nodded back and left the room, hoping to get his tasks done quickly in order to return to his daughter’s side.

First order of business was to stoke that fire. He got it burning nice and hot, until heat permeated the household. Nodding in satisfaction, he went about preparing a quick, light soup for Evie to eat.

Now knowing the reason behind her lack of appetite that morning, he resolved to make sure she got something in her belly, to keep her strength up. Plus, he fondly remembered his own mother making him soup when he was ill, and hoped he could offer the same comfort to his own child.

Placing the pot over the roaring hearth, he left the meal to cook. As he walked into the kitchen to fill a bowl from the water basin, he noted some of Niamh’s herbal concoctions sitting off to the side at her work station. He paused, staring at them, wondering if he could recall if any of them were good for fever. He thought he recollected Niamh mentioning something about spindleweed…or was it embrium? No, he didn’t trust himself to give Evie something when he wasn’t entirely sure of the results. His best bet would be to wait for Niamh.

However, he resolved to have Niamh educated him further on herbal remedies, lest he be unable to help Evie to the best of his ability in the future. The only thing he could truly recall on the subject was that elfroot was practical for most things and that there was no real risk in preparing it. Recollecting that tidbit, he made a mental note to add some to the soup, which he did after retrieving a bowl of cool water and a cloth.

He slipped back into the bedroom and approached the bed. Havard moved out of the way so Cullen could take his perch on one side of the mattress. Cullen patted his charge on the head in thanks, and set his items in his lap, noting Evie seemed have dozen off again in his absence.

Dipping the cloth into the bowl, he rung it out, and tried as gently as he could to place the cool cloth upon her brow. Evie’s eyes fluttered open at the contact, however, and she blearily looked to the side to note Cullen. She opened her mouth, only to cough weakly a couple of times.

“I’m sorry Evie, I didn’t mean to wake you up.”Cullen said, as each cough clenched around his heart, and guilt pieced his belly at his apparent inability to even take care of his sick child properly.

Evie lifted a hand to touch the cloth on her forehead. “Wet?” she asked, voice sounding like a mere thread to Cullen’s ears.

“Yes, it’s wet so it can cool you off, so you don’t feel so hot. So don’t take it off,” Cullen explained, reaching out to gently stop her from removing it from her forehead.

She nodded in acceptance, closed her eyes and seemingly fell asleep again. Not knowing what else to do, Cullen sat there for a time, holding her hand, and watching her little chest rise and fall in fitful sleep, whilst occasionally exchanging the warmed cloth for a cool one.

Just when Cullen was contemplating on checking on the soup, Evie awoke to a minor coughing fit. With the vice around his heart squeezing even further, Cullen pulled her into a sitting position and squeezed himself further onto the bed to sit beside her. He rubbed her back, the coughing subsiding after a few moments, though it seemed to have tired her out even further. Her little body leaned heavily against Cullen’s side as he continued to stroke her back gently. 

She sniffled and wheezed, hand coming back up to rub her watery eyes again. A little hiccuping sob escaped her and Cullen felt like his heart was about to be crushed at the little sound. He pulled her gently into his lap, allowing her to rest against his chest as his arms wound around her, one hand still rubbing her back.

Evie rubbed her face against his chest, dampness permeating though Cullen’s cotton shirt, and he squeeze her a little tighter in response.

“I want Mamae,” she cried against his chest, voice reedy.

Cullen nestled his head in her hair, sighing as he whispered, “Me too, pup. Me too. But she isn’t back yet, so we’re going to have to make due without her for now.”

He sat there for awhile, rocking her as he hummed the lullaby Niamh had invented for Evie. It seemed to calm her, for her sniffling stopped and her breathing evened out. He leaned back, using his sleeve to wipe the tears from her face, so large and green like her mother’s at the moment.

He smiled softly at that, though there was a thread of tension in it. He considered asking if she felt better, but reconsidered it, since it was clear she didn’t feel well at all. Instead he asked, “You want to try eating a little bit of soup, Evie? It might make you feel little bit better.” He said as he pinched his fingers to emphasize the little bit part.

She nodded in response, and wrapped her arms around his neck, waiting for him to pick her up and bring her to the dinning table. Cullen chuckled a bit at that, realizing the concept of eating in bed would be foreign to her, considering Niamh’s rules about getting crumbs in bed. Mamae’s rules reigned supreme, even when ill, it seemed.

Scooping her up, he carried her to the dinning table and sat her in a chair while he got her a small bowl of soup. She sat in his lap afterwards, still in a daze, though she managed to eat half the serving before she refused to touch it further.

He carried her back to her bed afterwards, tucking her back under her blankets, and placing another cloth onto her forehead.

Cullen took a moment to dart outside briefly, hoping to catch sight of Niamh, even in the distance. However, there was no sigh of her and he frowned as he noted it was getting late in the afternoon.

Where was she? He thought briefly that she may have gotten into trouble, but shook his head to clear those thoughts. He had enough to worry about without jumping to extreme conclusions. She had probably been delayed, most likely by a more severe injury then expected. He sent out quick prayer that Brenton was alright, and that his wife would return sooner, rather then later. He then made his way back to his daughter’s bedside to try and not fret further.

They sat in silence for awhile before Evie caught his eyes as he was changing her head cloth. “Da?” She asked, nose wrinkling as he placed the cold cloth on her head.

“Yes, love?”

She looked away, biting her lip in contemplation. Cullen waiting patiently, knowing she was much like her mother, and needed time to gather her thoughts at times.

She finally looked at back at him, and somehow looked a bit shy. She rolled to her side, cloth falling off her forehead in the process. Cullen was about to protest this fact when she finally voiced her question. “Terr me a story, Da?”, she asked, popping her thumb into her mouth, an anxious gesture he and Niamh were trying to dissuade her from doing.

Cullen’s eyes widened a bit and he raised a hand to rub his neck, eyes raising to the ceiling. Well, there was the reason for her hesitation in voicing her question.

Story time was strictly in Niamh’s realm of parental duties, Cullen having never done the task. It wasn’t that he refused to do it, just that he was rather horrid at it, in his opinion. He lacked the spontaneity and imagination for it, it was part of the reason he was bad at lying. Granted, Niamh had berated him on this admission, saying he wouldn’t know until he tried, but by that point she had set the standards too high, and he would rather not disappoint his daughter in his fumbling.

He cleared throat, ready to deter her request, but her eyes were so earnest, her feverish flush and mountain of blankets making her look so small and weak in his eyes, that he just didn’t have the strength in his heart to deny her this small request.

He sighed, a wry smile touching his lips. “All right, Evie, as you wish. Though fair warning, I am no where near as good as your mother.”

A tiny smile graced her lips, refreshing to see after the day she’d had. She scooted over, as if making room for him on the bed and borrowed further into her blankets waiting unexpectedly.

Smiling back at her, Cullen eased himself onto her bed, stretching out along beside her. She nestled against his side in response and he wrapped an arm around her in turn, absently running his fingers down her back. He looked back up at the ceiling, casting about his mind for a story idea, and coming up with nothing. ’Well, this is a good start…’

“Da?”

“Yes, yes. Give Da a moment to think…”

A moment later, he still had nothing. Nerves began to get the better of him, and he felt Evie shift next to him in impatience, before she let out a tiny huffing cough. He blew air out through his lips in agitation at his incompetence, and decided to just wing it.

“Once upon a time..there’s was a mabari. He was a tiny mabari, you see, the smallest one in the litter..”

“Whas a litter?”

“Ummm, like a family.” Her question threw Cullen off and he grasped at the thread of inspiration he had found to continue. “Anyway, so one day, this mabari, whose name was…Boris. Yes, yes, Boris. He was out playing with his family, when he decided to wander off, even though his mother told him not to.”

“Did he die?”

“What? No! Why would you think that? Maker, what kind of stories has your mother been telling you…”

“Auntie Rosie said her cat died because he ran away.”

“Oh. Yes, well, that is sad, but this isn’t that type of story, so don’t worry. I think. Are you going to let me continue?”

“'Kay.”

“Perfect. So, Boris, he wandered off, to play in a meadow a bit, chasing birds. Doing dog things, like Havard does. However, when he came back his family was gone…”

Cullen continued to weave his rather pathetic story about a lost, little mabari, Evie’s interruptions growing less frequent as time went on.

Whether this was due to interest in his story, or fatigue, he wasn’t sure, since she had tucked her head in the crook of his arm, causing him to only have a view of her hair and little else. So he just continued on, hoping this botched attempt of his at least offered her some comfort.

“..and so Boris was declared a hero, having saved the Arl of Remington from the evil cheese thief. And hence forth, he was known as Ser Boris the Fleet-footed, and he and his family was granted a small acre of land, where he and his siblings could run free and chase fennecs all day long. The End.”

Finally done with this whole affair, Cullen glanced back down at the top of Evie’s head. He noted the steady rise and fall of her back, as well as a vague dampness on his arm, and deduced she was probably fast asleep, and drooling on him. Well, he supposed that meant she didn’t want another story, at least.

He gingerly reached a hand up to touch her forehead. ‘Still too warm for my tastes’. Cullen eased his head back to rest atop Evie’s pillow, since she was currently using him as a substitute. He didn’t want to move and potentially wake her, so he was stuck there for the time being. He sighed, once again wishing Niamh was there to offer him a solution on how to break Evie’s fever.

As if on cue, he heard the front door open, Niamh’s voice calling out, “I’m home!”. Cullen lifted his head and open his mouth to respond, to rush her to his side, but a snuffling noise from the toddler to his left made him pause. Instead, he whispered as loudly as he dared, hoping it wouldn’t wake Evie. “Niamh! Niamh, in the bedroom!”

“Hello? Anyone home? Cullen? Evie?” he heard her still yelling out, obviously not having heard him. Cullen cursed under his breath has Evie shifted a bit. He glanced about, spotting Havard lying on the floor and got an idea. “Havard!” he whispered, and the dog perked up at his name. “Go get Niamh!”

Havard sprang to his feet and darted out of the room. A moment later, he heard Niamh exclaim in surprise, “Havard! What’s going on? Where are taking me?”

Niamh walked into the room an instant later, Havard tugging at the hem of her sleeve. She looked up to find Cullen lying in bed with Evie, and a bright smile sprang onto her face. “This is where you two went? Isn’t that adora-”

“Shhhh!” Cullen interrupted, bringing a finger to his lips. Niamh gave him a confused look. “Help! Evie! She needs help!” He whispered harshly.

Unease crossed Niamh’s face as she strolled forward and approached the bed. “Help? What do you mean she needs help?” she whispered back, trying to get a peek at her daughter.

“She’s sick! Please, Niamh, I don’t know what to do, she’s had a fever all day…”

Niamh’s face suddenly went serious and she crawled over Cullen to kneel next Evie. She gently tipped the girl over, not seeming overly concerned about waking her. Cullen took the chance to roll off the bed and kneel next to it, giving Niamh more room to manoeuvre. Evie’s face scrunched at the movement, eyelids fluttering. Niamh placed her hand against her forehead, waiting a few moments before sliding it down to rest against the girl’s neck to check her pulse. “Has she been sleeping all day?” Niamh asked.

“No, on and off really, but the fever hasn’t broke. I manged to get her to eat only a little soup-”

“Hi Mamae.”

Niamh smiled down at her daughter’s sleepy eyes, removing her hand and manoeuvring to pull the girl into her lap. “Hello, da'len. Da said you weren’t feeling well?”

Evie wrapped her little arms around Niamh’s waist and cuddled her head against her mother’s belly. Niamh’s hand drifted down to smooth across her head. Evie nodded, mumbling, “Yeah, I feer rearry icky.”

“How so?”

“Hot. And sreepy. My head feers stuffy.” She sniffled and lifted a sleeve to wipe at her nose. “My nose is crying.”

Niamh laughed softly at the tot’s response. “Well, my dear, it seems you are the proud owner of a cold. Survivable with the proper care.” She turned to glance at Cullen, giving him a knowing smirk. He flushed in response.

“'Cuz we played outside?” Evie asked, and Cullen shot Niamh his own knowing look, though she seemed unfazed by it.

“Maybe,” said Niamh, shrugging as she lay Evie back down onto the bed.

“I think it’s a higher chance then 'maybe’,” Cullen grumbled.

Niamh made a shooing motion at him as she dipped her head down to kiss Evie on the head. “No worries, Evie. Mamae is going to go make you some medicine and it’ll make you feel better real quick.”

Evie nodded, eyes fluttering as fatigue gripped her again. “Are you cold too Mamae?”

Niamh chuckled at this. “No, no. Mamae rarely gets sick.”

Evie nodded once again before fully shutting her eyes, and snuggling further under the blankets, clearly done with the conversation.

Niamh crawled over her and slipped onto the floor to sit next to her husband, who as still kneeling next to the bed. She leaned over to peck him on the cheek. "She’ll be fine, Cullen, it isn’t as serious as it could be.“

Cullen grumbled at her comment, though he did turn his head to peck  
her on the lips as she leaned in. "Can you go make her some medicine? That will finally put me at ease.”

She smiled, chuckling, before nodding and rising to her feet. Cullen followed suit and signalled Havard to keep an eye on Evie.

The dog’s hips shook in an attempt to wag his stumpy tail as he strolled over to sit next to the bed. As Cullen followed Niamh out of the room, he turned to see Havard sneaking up onto the mattress to curl at Evie’s feet. Cullen paused, about to scold the dog, but decided to let it go this one time, considering the hound’s help throughout the day.

He followed Niamh into the kitchen and stood beside her at her workstation. She was already pulling bottles and jars that contained different tinctures down from a shelf. She then pulled some parts of a plant hanging over her work station. His eyes followed her movement for a few moments before he reached over to touch the plant she had pulled out. “Spindleweed?” he asked, still doubting his own herbal knowledge.

She hummed in affirmation, pulling the plant over to her and clamped her mortar into the grove they had created to help her hold it in place. She took her small, sharp scissors and cut off a bit of the root. “If you crush to root and mix it in with embrium petals and a bit of elfroot tincture, it can be made into a rather reliable elixir to deal with fever. I’m afraid the cold will have to be fought off the old fashioned way, no real immediate cure for that. But I can put together some tonics to help strengthen her body and deal with the sniffles and cough that will follow.”

She glanced over at him, the smirk still there, though it softened when she saw the worry still lingering on his face. She scooted over a bit and leaned her head on his shoulder, her arm still working. “She’ll be fine Cullen, I promise. She was bound to get sick at some point in her life.”

Cullen sighed, and lifted an arm to wrap loosely around her shoulders, aware she needed the space to move as she worked, but needing to touch her in some way to ease the tension still running through him.  
“I know,” he murmured. “I told myself as much. But..she just looked so small, and weak and I couldn’t do anything about it. I felt rather at a loss as what to do. I don’t like it.”

“Feeling useless or Evie being sick?”

“Both.”

Niamh chuckled again, moving away briefly to retrieve some elfroot before slipping back to his side. “You’re not useless. You can’t beat back a cold, Cullen. I’m sure you did the best you could, made her as comfortable as possible.”

“All I did was manage to get her to eat a bit of soup and tell her some horrid story about a lost mabari.”

“You told her a story? You never tell stories! No fair! Will you tell it to me later?”

“No, because it was horrid.”

“Awwwww, c'mon Cullen…”

“Trust me, Niamh. You are clearly more of the story teller between us. I won’t make you suffer through my bumbling attempts.”

“Pfft, you being over dramatic. But fine. I’ll leave it be. For now.”

“You never can just drop something can you?”

“You know me better then that.”

“I do, don’t I?” He replied, affection seeping into his voice as he nuzzled his nose into her hair, breathing in the sent of her. Maker, he had missed her. He turned to rest his cheek against the crown of her head. He sighed after a moment. “She asked for you, you know. Probably because she knew you would make something to make her feel better…”

“Cullen, enough of this 'I’m a bad father’ train of thought. I think in the three years since Evie was born, we can both say there is no rule book for you to follow when raising children. How many times have you had to comfort me when I thought I was failing as a mother? You do the best you can, with the knowledge you have at the time, and learn from each experience. Both you and I are learning from Evie, just as much as she is learning from us. So, Commander, if you want to think of this as a defeat, learn from it.” She declared the last part resolutely, almost a challenging in her tone.

Cullen was silent for a moment, continuing to watch her work, before he decided to act on his earlier decision to himself. “Okay. Let me help you then.”

She glanced up at him, eyebrow arching. “With the elixir?”

“Yes. But not just that. I want you to show me how to make some herbal remedies. Things I should know so that I can help Evie in the future too.”

Niamh stared him a moment, eyes unblinking, before she leaned up to kiss him on the cheek. There was a soft smile on her lips as she leaned back, nodding in affirmation at his request. “Alright. But let’s leave the rest of the lessons for another day. I’ll just show you how to make this elixir, and then I want to spend time with you and Evie.”

“I like the sound of that”, Cullen murmured, giving her one last squeeze around the shoulders, before unwinding his arms to assist her as she instructed him on how to mix the elixir. Her instructions were short but to the point, and she simplified the entire process enough the he was confident he could reproduce the elixir should he need to again. Though he did request she show him a couple more times, just to make sure the method sunk in.

Elixir in hand, they both returned to Evie’s room. Niamh glanced at Cullen upon seeing Havard in the bed with Evie, but he just shrugged in response. “He’s been helping out a lot today. I didn’t have the heart to tell him no.”

Niamh sighed and nodded. “I guess it’s okay for now. Let just try not to make a habit out of it, or he’ll be trying to crawl into our bed next. And I don’t know if you realize this, but I already sleep with one bed hog, I don’t need another.”

“I am not a bed hog. I just need to stretch out sometimes,” Cullen groused. “At least I don’t steal covers.”

“Pffft, I do not steal the covers. Maybe I just do it, so you have an excuse to snuggle against me for warmth.” Niamh said, wiggling her eyebrows.

Cullen smirked, his shoulders shaking as he attempted to hold back his mirth. He felt the last of the tension he had held throughout the day seep from his shoulders in that moment. As usual, Niamh managed to assuage his worries with her mere presence. He opened his mouth to respond when a rustling from the bed caused him to notice Evie attempting to sit up. He rushed to her side to assist her.

Niamh strolled over and settled herself on the edge of the bed. “Mamae has your medicine, Evie. Think you can drink it? It’ll taste funny, but it should make you feel better.”

Evie nodded, yawning widely before rubbing at her eyes again. She snuggled against Cullen’s side as Niamh handed her a small cup full of a rosy liquid. Cullen assisted in holding it as the girl lifted it up to her lips. She made a face at the taste, but didn’t comment on it, and continued to drink the concoction at Cullen’s insistence. He breathed a sigh of relief when she finished it.

Lifting a hand up to her forehead, he swore she felt a bit cooler then before, though he could be deluding himself. “See, that wasn’t so bad, was it?” he asked, smoothing her wayward curls that had rumbled in her sleep.

Evie made a soft noise in response, leaning more heavily against Cullen’s side. Whether it was in agreement or denial, he couldn’t tell.

She sniffled loudly, and stuck her thumb back into her mouth, watching as Niamh got up to take the cup from Cullen. She placed it to the side and grabbed the discarded cloth and bowl from earlier. Using a damp cloth, Niamh began to wipe the tot’s face, supporting her little head in the crook of her left elbow. “So I heard your Da told you a story. Did you like it?” she asked, ignoring the harassed look Cullen sent her.

Evie tried to wiggle away from her mother’s ministrations as she answered. “Yeah. I riked Ser Boris. He saved ever'one.”

“Boris? What an…umm, excellent and noble name,” Niamh commented, snorting as she tried to hold back her laughter.

“Hey! Ser Boris is a fine name. It’s better then 'Hart-Hart’,” Cullen protested, blushing.

“Hey, you! Don’t you go and drag Hart-Hart into this! He was a majestic beast and he loved his name!” Niamh grumbled at Cullen, before turning back to her daughter. “Blow please, Evie.” Niamh held the cloth to the child’s nose as she did what her mother instructed.

As Niamh moved to toss the cloth back into the bowl to be dealt with later, Evie sniffled again, as if to test clearness of her nose, before turning to look up and ask, “Who’s Hart-Hart? Boris’ friend?”

“Well,” Niamh began, turning back towards her daughter with a wide grin on her face. “Hart-Hart, you see, was a tricksey Red Hart, his antlers wide like tree branches!” Niamh lifted up her arms to emulated the antlers, though it had a rather lop-sided effect, with only one hand with which to splay her fingers. Evie giggled anyway at her mother’s theatrics, eyes brighter and more lively.

Noticing this, Niamh continued with her story, dropping her arms and crawling onto the bed to settle herself next to Evie, opposite to where Cullen was standing. “And while he didn’t know Boris, he had certainly heard tales of him! Tales I’m sure you father will regale us with at a later date.”  
Cullen rolled his eyes at Niamh tactics, but smiled at her earnest attempt to get him more involved with the story telling. “Yes, yes,” he relented, “but later. Much later.”

“I’ll make sure to remind you. Now, back to Hart-Hart…”

“Come Da, sit here,” Evie said, scooting over to press herself against Niamh and patting the tiny space left behind. “Come listen to Mamae’s story!”

Cullen eyed the small space, unsure if he could actually fit, but then he eyed upon Evie’s bright smile and found himself smiling back before wedging himself next to her. It was a tight fit, but they all managed to settle onto the small bed, Evie in between her parents and Havard warming their feet. Cullen wrapped an arm around his ladies, both to stabilize  
their position and for the sheer joy in  
holding them.

Niamh wrapped her own arm around his back, clutching the fabric of his shirt and resting her head on his shoulder, taking a moment to enjoy the presence of her small family. A content smile formed on her lips and she closed her eyes, breathing in deep. She was so very glad to be home.

“Mamae?”

Evie’s voice drew her out of her reprieve and her smile widen at the frustrated look her daughter was sending her way. “Yes?” Niamh asked coyly.

“What 'bout Hart-Hart?”

“Well, as you might recall, Hart-Hart was a tricksey hart, but sometimes his tricks got him into trouble. So, one fine day, he saw slow, old Mr. Snoufleur and decided to get into some mischief. 'Why dear Mr.Snoufluer’, he said, 'I heard you were once the swiftest of beasts in the valley!’ Might I challenge you to a race?’ Mr.Snoufleur eyed Hart-Hart before issuing the young hart a warning…”

Niamh’s story continued for a while, holding Evie and Cullen’s rapt attention. As she spoke, Cullen idly traced shapes across her upper arm and shoulders, his other hand was held captive between his daughter’s small fingers.

Evie’s gaze often switched between her mother and father, adoration and excitement crossing her features at each turn in the story. However, as she neared the end of her story, Niamh softened her voice, as she had done countless times before, and on queue, Evie’s eyes seemed to droop along with her timber.

When the words 'The End’ finally crossed Niamh’s lips, Evie let out a soft sigh, fully succumbing to sleep, head cushioned by her pillow and cuddled against her mother’s thigh. Niamh reached to pull the blanket up around the child’s shoulders. She then reached to feel the Evie’s forehead, breathing a quiet sigh of relief at the significant drop in temperature. The fever had broke.

Niamh turned to relay the news to her husband, only to find him softly snoring, chin against his chest and back slouched against the bed’s headboard. She smiled and leaned down to kiss Evie on the brow before reaching over to do the same to Cullen and then used her foot to give Havard a gentle pat. 

She thought about waking Cullen up, but for now it could wait. In that moment she felt at peace surrounded by family, and she wished to relish in it just a little bit longer.

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this drabble some months ago when Riverbard and I were first discussing the idea of Niamh and Cullen having kids.
> 
> I recently dug it up again to look through, and she insisted that it was somehow good enough to post. Well, I don’t know about that, but I guess I should try letting at least a bit of my writing out into wilds. 
> 
> Hope at least some of you enjoy this fluffy mess. Have fun with over-anxious Dad!Cullen.
> 
> Niamh was originally Riverbard's Inquisitor, and seeing how she played an integral role in both the dabble's production and it's beta, I've gifted it to her. Check out her profile for more Niamh/Cullen. Cheers.


End file.
